Fields of Duscur
Dimitri pulled Dedue aside and he and Mercedes were leaving for the evening, after Mercedes had already exited the king’s sitting room. “It’s been almost a year, hasn’t it?” Dimitri asked.
Dedue nodded. “A year tomorrow.”
“Have you asked her yet?”
“We agreed upon it at the beginning. It is understood.”
Dimitri chuckled and shook his head. “She’ll still want you to ask her again, you know.”
Dedue stood silent, pondering. Perhaps there was truth in Dimitri’s words.
Dimitri put his hand on Dedue’s shoulder. “Take tomorrow and make the arrangements for the ceremony. Pick out some rings. Then don’t forget to propose before the day’s done.”
“Good night,” Dimitri said with a smile. “Thank you both again for the delicious dinner.”
Dedue looked down the hall, where Mercedes waited for him. The months had passed in a blur. She was a pleasure in every way—her smile, her laugh, her body, her kindness. Not only had she accompanied him and the king on the battlefield as a healer, she’d ensured they spoke of Duscur frequently and diligently recorded everything he could remember. There were several promising locations in the Duscur district for their school, and Mercedes proved skilled at navigating the appropriate approvals. He could never remember being so happy.
That was why he would heed his friend and master’s words. Based on the weddings of their friends, it seemed a larger, statelier affair than weddings in Duscur. So be it. Anything to make Mercedes happy.
They retired to their bedchamber. Mercedes lit the bedside candle, the soft light illuminating her face. Dedue never tired of being with her, of seeing her. If anything, she had become lovelier over the course of the year. Having her in his life was a blessing beyond measure.
She took off her cap and veil and tossed her head before running her fingers through her hair. Her beauty grabbed his heart and twisted. Before he quite knew what he was doing, he stood behind her and kissed the spot behind her ear that made her quiver.
Mercedes shivered on cue, tilting her head to the side to expose more of her throat. Dedue reached around and cupped her breasts as he nibbled on her ear and neck.
“Already?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he rumbled. “You on top.”
Mercedes blushed, and he smiled against her skin. She was demure, and still sometimes shy, but she never tried to deny her passion. It was wonderful knowing she desired him as much as he did her.
He undid the buttons of her blouse with practiced movements, and soon he held her bare breasts in his hands, nipples between his fingers. Mercedes sighed and pressed against him. By the gods of his homeland, this woman fit him in every way.
They disrobed in a frenzy of kisses and groping hands and tangled on the bed. Dedue rolled Mercedes on top and shuddered as she guided his shaft inside her. The past year had provided ample opportunity for them to learn each other’s bodies and how to please one another, and it paid off in spades as she rode him. His breath came in short bursts as the ecstasy of being one with her overwhelmed him. She uttered a soft cry each time their bodies collided. He loved that no matter how hard she tried to be quiet, she couldn’t help herself.
Dedue propped himself up on an elbow and took her nipple into his mouth. Mercedes tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling his head to her chest as she ground against him. Her noises rose in pitch. The heat inside him flared in answer.
He flipped her onto her back and rested her ankles on his shoulders. Grunts escaped his throat as he pounded her. Sometimes they took their time and enjoyed gentle lovemaking. This was not one of those times. He wanted all of her, wanted to give her all of him, wanted to be so close with her that there was no separation between them at all.
Mercedes gripped his arms, her eyes closed and her head thrown back. Dedue was as deep as he could go without hurting her. Her body tightened around him. Her face flushed, and her lips grew red. They moved in perfect unison. She began to buck and spasm, and he followed suit, their cries mingled.
When their climax had subsided, he rolled off of her and laid his head on her chest. She stroked his hair, breathing heavy and heart racing. He laced his fingers with hers. They had never come together before. The moment felt special, sacred somehow.
“Oh, my,” Mercedes said with a sigh.
“I love you.” There was more he wanted to say, but his strength had left him. It was a struggle just to stay conscious.
“I love you, too.”
“Dimitri has given me leave for tomorrow.’
“Won’t the ambassador from Sreng be visiting?”
“Yes, but Sylvain is accompanying him. Ingrid is on duty as well.”
“I see. Where are we going?”
“To make arrangements for our Fódlan-style wedding.”
Mercedes went still.
Cold raced down his spine, waking him fully, and he raised his head to look at her. Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. He wiped them away with his thumb, brow furrowing. “What is wrong?”
She shook her head. “I’m just so happy. Although I admit I already feel like your wife.”
“I am already your husband, but it is important to honor your people’s traditions.”
Mercedes threw her arms around his neck and buried her head against his chest. He smiled as he stroked her back. She was his joy. As long as they were together, nothing could go wrong.